


Terminology of Love

by Valgus



Series: Words of Nations [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valgus/pseuds/Valgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand and the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep and there are no words for that.”</p><p>Ludwig recalled his first time being one with Feliciano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminology of Love

Ludwig vaguely remembered the first time he made love with Feliciano. His pride might had something to do with that. Ludwig wasn’t exactly experienced with sex, especially when it comes to sex between male. Of course, before he had to spend time only with the personification of North Italy, Ludwig had slept with several woman. He took it as gaining experience on human dynamic, though mostly felt confused on how his physical body alone could make a female human felt so good.

After all, Ludwig believed that was why moan escaped their lips when he touched them.

It was as if their bodies couldn’t contain joy that they needed to express it with gasp and writhes.

It was also the case when Ludwig was with Feliciano for the first time.

He remembered details like time and place, but he also remembered other details like how the whole activity made him feel or how his feeling towards the smaller nation changed afterwards.

They were waging war with America and England—now Ludwig would call them friendly with their human name, Alfred and Arthur—when it happened. As nation, Germany and Italy had been friend for quite sometime. Ludwig was no longer surprised by Feliciano tendency to hug him or kiss him by the cheek.

That night, however, opened a whole new chapter on their ‘friendship’.

He remembered being dead tired after staying up for hours, looking out for both of them in their small camp. Feliciano slept effortlessly, but waking the auburn-nation haired did require a lot of effort. Even Ludwig couldn’t muster a lot of strength to do so.

Ludwig remembered envying Feliciano’s sleeping face.

He also remembered that he was flustered when he realised that the only person beside him on miles was sleeping without anything but a boxer on. Sure, Ludwig knew by now that Feliciano liked to sleep naked or almost naked, but war zone was definitely not a good place to do it.

Still, Feliciano Vargas was just Feliciano Vargas, wherever he went. He would always looking forward to food and rest.

Ludwig remembered Feliciano woke up when the blond nation had given up in waking the others up. He remembered the way the Italian looked at him with such tenderness, such longing…

Ludwig remembered he thought that that must be how did it feel to be loved.

_Loved._

It was such a comfortable feeling.

It was obvious that as fatherland, he received a lot of love in the form of respect from his people. But respect stayed as respect. They looked at him, at their tall and strong fatherland, amazed and scared at the same time. They didn’t looking up at him and wanting to stand beside him, to love and care for him like one might does for their lover.

Only another nation could do that.

Only another personification of country could stand on the same place as his.

And only Feliciano, with his worried face and gentle expression, could make Ludwig felt like he was loved. The blue-eyed nation remembered smiling, remembered the fuzzy and warm feeling, and remembered how he thought that it was nice to have someone who would care for you no matter how wretched or awkward you are.

Ludwig remembered how Feliciano’s hands found their way to cup the sides of his face.

Ludwig remembered how they kissed.

Had they kissed on the lips before? Ludwig couldn’t recall. He could only recall how good and warm the kiss felt, how good Feliciano tasted on his tongue, and the softness of his lips while he could inhale the faint smell of a country loved by the sun…

Ludwig remembered he gave up on resisting. He was thinking how the whole thing was strange, no matter how he looked at it. But the kiss felt so comfortable yet addicting at the same time that the German simply gave up and let Feliciano devoured him in the most amazing way possible.

After that, Ludwig only remembered tiny bits of everything.

He remembered how he moaned when the smaller nation planted kisses on his neck, on his shoulder, and on his chest. He remembered both of them undressing each other eagerly while the sound of their panting filled the heated night air. He remembered how his hardness longed for friction so much it was painful. He remembered his grunt, his impatient movement and how it was so unlike him to rush things out of lust, yet Feliciano lead him gently and carefully.

When Ludwig was finally inside Feliciano, feeling the other’s flesh gripped on him so tightly, the personification of Germany suddenly realised that sex could feel so good that he could bow his head off from the sensation. He was panting, grunting, and moaning. It felt like he lost control of his movement. Ludwig was a complete mess. And all he wanted was to mess Feliciano as well.

Feliciano writhed and mewled underneath him, his sun-kissed skin glistened with drops of liquids, tears pricking his honey-coloured eyes, and sweat made his auburn hair stick into his head.

And, _God_ , he did look amazing.

He looked absolutely amazing being fucked by Ludwig.

Not long after, Ludwig remembered the way Feliciano clenched even tighter around him. He remembered how he felt a familiar heat on the lower side of his stomach, how he whispered between his ragged breath to the moaning nation underneath him.

“Feliciano… I-I can’t hold it anymore.”

Feliciano did his best to nod as he replied, “I also… can’t…” He panted harshly through his open mouth. A streak of drool escaped his parted lips. Ludwig thrusted to Feliciano once more just to see those lips parted even further—just to hear Feliciano moaned so loudly yet so deliciously.

Ludwig stopped moving, wanting to come yet wanting to feel good even longer. He was still, body covered in sweat and heart thumping loudly underneath his ribcage.

But then Feliciano begged and moaned, voice clouded with desire, “Ludwig… Ludwig… can I come? I want to come. I can’t—anymore… Ludwig… ah...”

So Ludwig moved his hips for a couple of times, thrusting to the smaller nation senselessly until they both found their release and moaning as they made even bigger mess than before.

Ludwig remembered Feliciano stared at him through his half-lidded eyes after they both come, muttering his names like prayer while his whole body squirmed in ecstasy. Ludwig felt his consciousness left him. It felt so incredibly good, albeit tiring somehow. It felt too good. Mess never felt so good for the German.

Later when they cuddled after Ludwig cleaned both of them, Feliciano stared at Ludwig like he wanted to say something.

“What?” Ludwig stared at those amber eyes, his own eyes heavy in the most satisfying way possible.

Feliciano smiled sleepily, “That was so good. It hurt, though.”

Ludwig could feel his eyes snapped open by the statement, “It… hurt?”

The auburn-haired male nodded, closing his eyes and smile, “Yes, it hurt, because you’re my first male.”

Ludwig could feel his heart throbbed by those words, before it swell even bigger than before. The muscular nation pulled the other closer, where Feliciano buried his face on Ludwig’s chest. After taking a long, satisfied breath, Feliciano fell asleep on Ludwig’s embrace.

Then the memory ended there.

***

Ludwig had lost count on how many times they made love to each other. He had to admit he enjoyed every single one of them, including the ones where he woke up late or with sore hips, yet he still find it hard to pour what he felt to Feliciano into words.

He read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand and the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. It was just like how the Japanese has fifty words for rain. Ludwig wished he had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to his mind is the way Feliciano moved against him while he sleeps.

And there was no word for that.

**Author's Note:**

> The quote I put in the summary originally belongs to Brian Andreas.
> 
> I use their human name because I want to feel more personal, because I think sex can be a very personal and intimate thing.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I had a lot of fun writing this.


End file.
